DR's game--Episode I: Alliances

Yakov's face was blank. He didn't care of the sarcastic remark Ruperrt had made. He was just listening.

Rupert decides to be a bit of a historian, which is what he is known for outside of his expertise as an asassin.

"The Jedi Knights of the Old Republic avoided the planet much of the time, and the Jedi still do now. It is because of this that many...illegal operations occur here."

"So he is at Tatooine then?" Rupert thinks for a moment. "Pray do tell, if he is on Tatooine, how are we to kill him and THEN get the exit codes?"

"Tatooine is my home planet. I know alot of people. If we take this chalange, we could get it done in day or two."

Yakov sighed and backed into the shadow. He looked around at all the fcaes of the other people.

"You do not need to remind me. I can still wield a lightsaber and a shotgun well enough," Tlith says to Xornon, regarding the ysalamiri.

"I was wondering when one of you hotshots was going to think of that. I'm going to give you the exit codes before you leave, obviously. If you'll let me, I'll have my doctors back at my complex surgically implant tracking devices in you. That way, if you decide to run away, I can track you down anywhere in the galaxy. And I have plenty of people on hand to take you out, if it comes to that."

"I doubt that Rupert here will lie down on the job," Tlith says, rolling his eyes at Rupert.

"For a large elephantine being, you are wise," Rupert says, distasteful as ever.

"As for surgically implanting a tracking device, I would prefer that you have droids do it. I do not want human hands prying in my skin..."

"Good. Now if you'll come back to my complex with me, you can rest up for a day and I'll send some people out to repair your ships."

Tlith just shakes his head. Despite Rupert's racist remarks, he managed to look past that and considered the Arkanian somewhat of a friend. Arkanians were naturally xenophobic, after all, and naturally jerks to all around them.

"That can be aranged," he says to you, Rupert.

Smirks at the comment. "With all due respect, you may be able to track me down, but your men have no change in hell of killing me." I glance over at his two goonies and nod with a cocky smirk.

Yakov stared at Rupert. If he was going on this mission he would not have a tracking device put in him, but he still said nothing. Silence was his greatest defense. No one knew what he was thinking.

"Good," Rupert hisses. "And make sure it is implanted somewhere that will not mar my skin. I do not like scars. I want it as if it is not there, so inivisible that I would be able to forget about it. Otherwise, consider yourself a dead man." He drinks more of his wine, setting the glass down slowly and precisely.

"Then it is a done deal," he says, extending a gloved hand reluctantly, to shake on it. If I wasn't wearing gloves, I wouldn't be shaking this filth's hand...

THREE goons 🙄

"Believe me, I keep plenty of assassins just as skilled as you on hand. You would be severely outnumbered."

"Ah, don't listen to this loser, Raneis," Ereth chuckles, taking a deep swig of his murky, mint-green drink. "He is racist and an assassin, but he's also a being of empty threats." He slaps the Arkanian on the back.

Raneis takes your hand and shakes it. "You are all in agreement? Then let's go," he says, his slight Russian accent becoming more apparent. He goes to a speeder bus parked outside, gets in, and sits down next to the pilot.

Yakov watched as Rupert's hand was out to shake the other man's. He felt a little insecure. The others were quickly making friends and his was a astrodroid.

Yakov sighed. He didn't like the idea of a tracker. He reluctantly followed the man.

Rupert shakes Raneis' hand, then turns on Ereth and draws his punch-dagger, holding it to the Caamasi smuggler's throat. "Touch me and that hand will never touch anything again..." He pushes the button on the hilt, the blade sliding out and extending, sliding just a centimeter from Ereth's throat. He allows a slim smile to float onto his face momentarily, then goes back to his snobby stare, putting the punch-dagger away.

He follows Raneis outside to the speeder vehicle. "What a piece of junk. Arkanian vehicles are more refined..."